Meeting between the Kingdom of the Stars and the Commerans
Early one Tuesday, the people of The Kingdom of Stars spot a sea monster skirting the coast. As it grows closer, the words "Aftel Sɪtræk" become visible on its side. The Governor of Isca is on board, along with his apprentice, a stenographer, and the Sitrak's original crew. Merova had gotten entirely too rich from their trade agreement with the Aripun, and the bastards had managed to talk the Aripun traders into an exclusive trade deal. Basic economics will tell you that exclusivity is bad for everyone. The Merovans knew that better than anyone, they just didn't care. Nobody but those four Merovan traders were going to benefit. Well, Aripun couldn't be the only other nation in the world. Governor Kɒnhel was going to find some other trade partners and break the Merovan's monopoly. And here were some now. Once they land on the shore, Conhale greets the locals. "Adriʃɑn, hɒfumə! Mɛt rekʃɪʃ ɪltɪn tɛ ræt sɪrrɛn – ɔrɪn tɑn ʌr ɪscel ɪlɪt ol ɑdri. Sɪr iri hɑvkɑr ɑl gʌvənər pɪn orɪn ɑ mər.” One of the people, Slightly larger and greyer than the rest steps forward. His eyes show clear confusion. He grunts a bit, then begins a series of hand gestures. He stops abruptly, and then turns to the crowd. He growls, and they scatter. Four of the people return carrying baskets of fish and furs. These are placed before Conhale. The tall grey looks at him expectantly. Conhale murmurs to his apprentice. "Pɪl ɪt dʌrə. 'Ketɪn ɑ kə ʃɑn'wɪt bɪn 'pɔrɒn." His apprentice giggles and Conhale rolls his eyes. He picks up a fish and tells the dog, "Ket ala wʌri. 'Lɒnɒn mɔrə ʃɪt ɑdɛr". He drops the fish back in the bucket. He walks over to the furs. He picks one up and smells it. "ɪlhɪs ken ɛrn dʌrə." He nods at the dogman but does not quite smile. "Sɪrrɪn gɪn bɪd 'tærɪt stɪl lɪn mɛr?" Sensing that negotiations would be quite involved, the grey's arms become a blur of activity. He grunts and gestures at his subordinates. The smallest of these bring a pair of stools for the two negotiators. The grey nods to Conhale, and points to the seat. The other three of the people bring more trade goods. Several hatchets wrapped in furs, a few pieces of beautiful carved and painted furniture, and the toothy maw of what must have been a truly gargantuan land creature. The grey stares directly at Conhale, then averts his eyes to the man's boat. He grunts. Conhale sits on the stool and inspects the disembodied mouth. Now realizing that the Hafuma can't speak at all, he speaks exclusively to his apprentice and his stenographer. "Kɑ hɛr, sɪt kə sɪnɑ ster. Oræm ɛpək." He nods at the dogs. Conhale and his apprentice turn their attention towards the furniture. "Kɑ əvun, sɪt bʌdəlɑk Kɑmɛrɑʃ ɑ tiʃəvun." The apprentice answers in an uncertain tone, "Pɪn ɑ ster lɪn mær ɑl yɪnɪn?" Conhale breaks into a smile. "ərin!" He nods at the dogmen. He then unwraps the furs. Upon seeing the hatchet, his eyebrows go up. "Ka pen!" He looks at the dogmen, taps the blade and asks, "Bɪd tærɪt pen? Or ræm hɛl nɑk." The grey notices the sudden change in demeanor. His jaw drops,mouth hanging open in a sort of smile. He takes the hatchet, and points to the flames carved up and down the handle. He then points to the etchings on the blade itself. Finally, he hands the hatchet to Conhale, handle first. He points at the hatchet, then holds his left hand in front of him, palms facing to the right. He then swings his right first into his open hand. He repeats the motion several times. Then gestures towards Conhale, looking expectantly. Conhale looks perplexed. "Si, si." He taps the blade of the hatchet. "Pɔr pen." He breaks off the handle and holds up the blade. "Sɑnwɪt pen." He does his best to mime blacksmithing. in IPA "pen" is pronounced "pane" The grey nods, seeming to understand. He waves over another of his subordinates, and repeats his earlier motion, followed by another grunt. The group runs off, leaving the grey and Conhale alone. They return with all of the metals their village has, almost 50 pounds of iron. These are laid in front of the visitor, the ore bearing stones spread out along yet another fur. He looks at Conhale and attempts to imitate. "Paaaeeen?" "Vɒznɑ Dɑrskɑ!" Conhale swoons a little bit and stares at the pile of metal. After a while, he exlaims to no one in particular, "Orɑlɑ vus!" Then he regains some of his composure. "Dɪp! Orræm hɛl nɑk." He waves his hand in a circle around the pile. "Hɛl nɑk." He smiles shakily and attempts to shake Grey's hand (paw?). "Kɑn ɑlʃiʃ pen! Orɑlɑ ʃiʃ vus!" The greay reaches out uncertainly. He gently grasps Conhale's hand, then quickly releases and points to himself. "Jek." he rasps. He then points at Conhale and cocks his head to one side. "Orɑ Kɒnhel Lɛtɒn. Kɑ vɑlʌm ʃan." Conhale smiles and turns to his crew and yells, "Pɪn mɔr enɒm!" The crew begins the arduous task of dragging two unwilling cows onto the shore. Other crew members bring out a cage of chickens, clucking and squealing. Conhale puts his hand on the second cow and explains, "Enə ʃilə." He gets below the cow and squeezes the udder into a glass of milk. He takes a sip and offers it to Jek. He then shows him a hen, and an egg in its cage. He mimes eating the egg. He then pushes the animals towards Jek. "Kɑn sɪrɪn. ɪt tærɪt ɪl kɒmɛrə, hɛl nɑsɪr. Kɑ ʃan?" Category:Nationbuilder VII Trade Meetings